Make You Feel My Love
by PersianFreak
Summary: A past tragedy altered the course of Eric's life. AU/AH/OOC.


**Make You Feel My Love**

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Charlaine Harris, I'm just taking her toys out to an alternate universe to play with.

Rating: M

A/N: This started as a hypothetical, and then became a thirteen-page one-shot. I'm quite fond of it; it's like a huge melting pot of everything I love. Theatre, angst, Sweden. And I get to jump back and forth between narrators and grammatical tenses like a mo'fo' on crack.

The title is inspired by the Adele song of the same title. Give it a listen, IF YOU HAVE A HEART. Kidding. But it is pretty amazing.

Let me know what you think, because I adore feedback, and because I have never written an AU/AH/OOC one-shot before.

Edit: I've been told that Make You Feel My Love is actually originally by Bob Dylan, and has been covered by half a dozen other people! Who knew? Thanks guys!

* * *

><p>"We can still work on this," I argue, half-begging.<p>

"No, we can't! Don't you see it? I got an abortion, it's _over_! _We_ are over!" She screams in my face, eyes blazing and nostrils flaring, and I stumble backwards, heartbreak showing on my face.

"You _what_?" I rasp out and she turns away, scoffing at me.

"You're fucking pathetic." Shaking her head, she sinks down on the couch to pour herself more of the Scotch. "It wasn't even yours. Did you have a clue?" Looking up at me, she sees the answer on my face. "Of course you didn't. Not a single clue that I've been fucking Josh behind your back for months."

"I love you," I say quietly and she scoffs for the second time.

"_I love you_," she mimics, sneering. "What the fuck do _you_ know about love?"

I'm about to respond, to say I know that she's all I think about, I know that I'll never be as happy as when we're together, but I'm interrupted.

"_Cut_! That's great, you two! Enjoy your weekend off, and we'll pick this up on Monday at twelve, sharp." Bill Compton, the director, smiles at us and turns to the stage manager, discussing something or other as the other actors and the few members of the production team begin to disperse. I sigh, trying to release the tension, and look over at Sookie who smiles weakly at me.

"Fake whiskey?" She offers and I grin back, sinking down on the couch next to her. This scene really takes it out of both of us, with the yelling and whatnot. "It's actually pretty good. It's some sort of cranberry-iced tea combination. I think they got the recipe from _Mad Men_." She hands me the glass and I take a discreet sip; there's a rule against actors – especially lead actors – sharing food and potentially sickness. Even though we kiss onstage.

"Hey, not bad." It's a bit sour, and has that dry black tea aftertaste that I like.

"I know, right. It would make getting fake drunk so much harder if it tasted like crap."

"You know what, you could scare the crap out of someone if they see you always drinking that. You'd look like the biggest alcoholic." I smile as she giggles and downs the rest of the liquid, handing both the bottle and the glass to our prop master.

"Thanks Jess."

"You're very welcome. How is that, better?" Jess, the redhead working as the prop master, inclines her head towards the fake whiskey.

"It's fine either way, really. It won't kill me if it's a bit more sour or anything; as long as it looks real, I'm good with it." Sookie smiles sweetly and mirrors me by rising to her feet, and I move to walk away.

"Uh-uh-uh! You have something for me, Mr Northman." Jess eyes my hand pointedly.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." I tug the wedding band off of my finger and smile proudly, growing a bit unsure when she continues to watch me. "What?"

"What's in your pocket?"

"Ah, right." My wallet. Or rather, my character's wallet. I am the worst with these things; a prop master's worst nightmare, my friends in college used to always say. Meanwhile, Sookie's watching me with an amused expression on her face.

"Got everything, there, klepto?"

"Hush, you whiskey-sipping wench." I grin and she sticks out her tongue in response, and I try not to become too distracted by it. Jess checks something off on her big list of props and looks up with a smile.

"Alright. You're all good."

We both wish her goodnight and head backstage to the dressing rooms where we quickly gather our things, calling out goodbye to whoever is left and heading out.

"So," I smile as we pause outside, caught in the limbo of needing to walk away despite wanting to stay. "Wanna make out?"

"No!" She smacks me with a small laugh.

"What, the celibacy thing extends to making out?" I pout.

"You want to make out in the middle of the street? In New York? At night?"

"I don't see your objection."

She shakes her head, clearly entertained, and I really just want to fucking kiss her right now. "So I'll see you at the wedding?"

Her eyes light up and she grins at me, biting her lip in that way she has. "Yeah. We should decide to meet somewhere."

"Like at the end of the aisle?" I grin back.

"Or something," she concedes.

"Designated clothing?"

"You'll be the one wearing the baseball cap?" She moves closer, arms slipping under my jacket and around my waist.

"Yeah. Something casual. It's not a big deal, is it?" I wrap my own arms around her and bring my face closer to hers, our noses almost touching. She smells like orange blossoms.

"Are you smelling my perfume?" Sookie asks knowingly, and I nod. She knows full well how much I like it.

"I love you," I murmur, pressing my lips against her forehead, our bodies flush, and she tucks her head against my neck.

"This is seriously how you'd rather spend the night before your wedding?" Bill's familiar voice asks and we break apart to smile sheepishly at him and Jess, who laughs and wraps her arm around his waist.

"Leave them alone, Bill."

"Yeah, this is our goodnight." Sookie pouts playfully.

"Ahh, Pam making you sleep apart?" Bill nods, knowing how neurotic my sister can be. She'd actually suggested picking Sookie up from the theatre, to eliminate temptation.

"You know it."

"Okay, well, enjoy your goodnight kiss, and we'll see you both tomorrow." Sookie and I watch them head away from us towards the subway, holding hands.

"They are the strangest couple." What with the fifteen-year age difference, and completely contrasting backgrounds. Bill is from old money, from the south, and Jess was born and raised in Canada, "in one of those provinces between Toronto and Vancouver" as she always tells people.

"Kind of like us?" Sookie smiles up at me, and I stroke her face with the back of my hand. She's got a point there. We fit though, two odd puzzle pieces, if that ring on her finger – and the one I'll be adding tomorrow – is any indication at all.

"You should go before Pam drives here and drags your ass back to her place."

"Okay. Text me when you get home?" She has this fear of me taking the subway at night, which we usually tend to do together, but on the rare occasion I do it alone, she makes me text her before and after.

"Ditto." Yeah I worry too. It's freaking New York. As much of a sucker I am for the crowds and the crazies, the subways during the day are questionable enough without the added bonus of nighttime. I kiss her, lifting her up to give my neck a break, and I try to talk her into a quickie that she shoots down.

"I haven't had sex in like, a month," I whine.

"And I haven't had sex in a week or so. I mean," she feigns a horrified look, "I haven't had sex in a month."

"Funny." I put on a scowl. She's awesome.

We kiss again, and I slip her a bit of tongue before heading to our place in the Upper East Side while Sookie heads down to the Village to Pam's. I get home before she does, and text her before crawling into bed, pouting a little bit to myself at the empty side. I text her that I love her, and she texts back that she'll see me in a few hours.

888

_We knew each other for years, not that we talked at all back then. His sister Pam dated my sister for a while on the down-low, to our mutual horror, and it hadn't been until they broke up as quietly as they had gotten together that we bothered sharing anything more than a humiliated grimace. For our pre-teenage selves, having our older sisters express any affection was mortifying in itself; the fact that theirs was expressed in homosexuality only furthered our feelings. Regardless, it hadn't been until our second year of high school that he had sidled up to me to shyly ask if I was free to go to a movie some time. I'd had to keep from jumping up and down, because I'd liked him since the beginning of the school year. My friends thought he was dorky-looking, but to me, Eric with his cleft chin and pale-lashed blue eyes was the epitome of hotness. He reached for my hand as we waited in line for popcorn at the movie theatre, and I blushed and moved closer to make handholding easier. We fucked for the first time in my single bed, in the empty apartment I shared with my sister and my mother before the hospital became the latter's second home, and afterwards he quietly told me he loved me. I loved him too. _

888

I wake to the sound of someone pounding on the door.

"Motherfucker," I mutter and peel myself off the sheets. "I'm coming!"

"Really?" I can hear Alcide on the other side of the door. "Isn't Sookie at Pam's?"

"Jackass," I frown and swing the door open to find a grinning Alcide, and a sleepy-looking Jason. At least someone understands me.

"Were you still in bed?" My best friend frowns and breezes in, my soon-to-be-brother-in-law stumbling in after him.

"I had no reason to get up early," I explain. It's only ten anyways. The wedding isn't until three. Jason makes a beeline for the coffee machine, and I follow his lead to toast some bread and make sure there will be enough coffee for me too.

"You are the most mellow groom ever." Alcide frowns. "I was pissing my pants when I was getting married to Maria."

"That's 'cause you were worried she wasn't going to show up," I retort and Jason chuckles, banging around the cabinets looking for a mug. I nudge him towards the right one and he thanks me. The coffeemaker is making that wonderful percolating sound, and not long after I get my much-needed caffeine hit.

"Make yourself at home," I say without needing to, since Jason is facedown on my couch and Alcide is rummaging around my fridge. "I'm going to shower." In the master bedroom, I disconnect my Blackberry from the charger and scroll to my ever-present conversation with Sookie.

_I love you. I can't wait to see you._

I'm definitely the sap in this relationship, not that I'll ever admit it to anyone other than Sookie. To everyone else, I'm the reserved Eric. The Eric who goofs off when he feels uncomfortable.

Right now, I'm the Eric that just wants this wedding bullshit over so Sookie and I can go back to playing house. Because as amazing as it is that she is willing to marry – that she _is_ marrying me, figuring out flower arrangements and guest lists and seating arrangements has just been far too stressful. Plus I haven't gotten off on anything other than my own hand for the past month, which seems kind of backward to me. The month leading up to the wedding begs for the release of tension, but all it had taken was Sookie giving me her puppy-dog eyes over wanting to do this at least partly right – since we'd fucked on our second date – and I had caved.

_Lovelovelovelove you._

I shower and put on sweats and a t-shirt, seeing no need to wear actual clothes when I'll be changing into my tux in a few hours. Our overnight bags are packed and I toss in my toothbrush before carrying them out to the living room, retrieving my garment bag and loafers from the hall closet. Alcide, seeing I'm ready, turns off the TV and throws the remote at a napping Jason who cries out in shock and lifts his head to glare.

"Jackass."

"Come on, Dopey. It's breakfast time."

"Wouldn't he be Sleepy?" I ask.

"No. You're Happy and I'm Doc."

"You are not Doc," Jason scoffs and hauls himself over to the door. I usher them out and lock the door behind us, following the bickering couple to Alcide's car where they continue their back and fourth in the front seat. I watch New York as it comes alive outside the car window and roll down a window to let the brisk air in. Alcide parks about a block away from my favourite diner, and we order an ungodly mountain of food that we devour without a moment's hesitation. Jason is just starting to wake up, and teases me about not fitting into my tux especially if I'm planning on polishing off my strawberry pancakes, which I had been, but the wedding day jitters are just starting to set in and I surrender my leftovers.

888

_ "You're beautiful," he grinned and I tossed him his boxers. He pulled them on without getting out of bed, and dropped his hips so that he bounced on the mattress. I tossed some crumpled tissues into the trashcan to cover the used condoms and spun around, trying to find my panties._

_ "Where did you toss them?"_

_Eric pulled himself up with a groan and looked around my minimalistic bedroom. "Hanging on the radiator." Curling up on his side, he smiled as I tugged on the fabric and his t-shirt before crawling back into his arms. His body was warm, and he smelled like soap when I tucked my face against his neck and he hitched my leg across his hips. _

_ "Are you still hurting?" He murmured, pressing a kiss into my hair. I was, actually; it had hurt so much more than I had anticipated, and it was all I could do to not let my silent tears escalate into sobs. I was almost grateful that he wasn't a virgin, because at least one of us knew what we were doing. But even without a frame of reference I knew he was huge. Nervous too, which was comforting to me because it meant he was worried about things not turning out well, just like I had been. And he had been so careful, so distressed by my pain, that it had taken a lot of words to keep him from pulling out. _

_I was eighteen, for crying out loud. I was losing my virginity, and I was losing it to Eric. My sister Emma had lost hers at fifteen to a boy, and a few months later to a girl, so I had been determined to get it over and done with. _

_ "I'm okay. I don't know when I'll be able to do it again, but I'm okay."_

_ "I'm sorry." He really looked sorry, and he really didn't need to._

_ "Don't be sorry. I wouldn't have done it any differently." I reached up to kiss him; he'd made me come with that mouth, not an hour ago. "I love you."_

_ "Love you."_

_We lay there in silence for several long moments, listening to the ticking of my clock, and I let my thoughts wander. Inevitably, my mind drifted to why the house was quiet, which led to the thought of my mother being in the hospital, which led to the cancer. Everything revolved around the cancer; even my personal thoughts as I laid next to my loving, kind boyfriend._

_ "My mom's not getting better."_

_I never said anything about her; Eric knew she was sick, but I hated lingering on what I couldn't change. He didn't say anything, simply waited for me to continue unlike everybody else I'd told, with their sad, sympathetic expressions and sad, sympathetic words. "She's going to die. It's been five years, and she's still going to die. All those treatments and surgeries, and none of it changed the outcome."_

_ "But it gave you more time, didn't it?"_

_I sniffled and wiped at my face, rolling onto my side to face him. His hand reached for my hand, offering me all the comfort I was willing to accept from him right now. "Was it worth it? She's been in and out of the hospital, in pain. She has lost so much already." The mastectomy had been especially hard for Emma and I, as women and as her daughters, to accept._

_ "I think if you asked your mom if it was worth it to have extra time with you, she would say yes." When he smiled, I could see where, in a few years, lines would appear on his skin. I hoped I would be around to watch them emerge, I thought absently. _

888

I sign us in at the Plaza – us being Sookie & I – and drop off our overnight bags, making sure to tuck the key card into the inside pocket of my jacket in the garment bag. On my way out, I stop by the concierge to make sure the room will be in the condition I want it to be when we get here tonight before heading back out to the car. It's just past twelve, and we have some time to kill before heading up to the tiny church in the Upper East Side that Sookie fell in love with while researching venues. It seems unbelievable, but I miss her. We've been so busy with rehearsal and wedding preparations that I don't remember the last time we had a conversation with just us, not about florists or tailors. I text her when we get to the church after an hour or so of walking around Times Square. There are a bunch of rooms upstairs we can use to get ready and whatnot, and we're directed to the one designated for the groom, on the opposite side of the one for the bride.

_I want to see you._

_Haha Pam saw that and is threatening the family jewels. _

_Pleeeeease?_

_Fine, but only because I'm not wearing my dress._

We meet up in an out-of-the-way bathroom and she squeals when she jumps into my arms to wrap her legs around my waist.

"I missed you," she murmurs into my hair.

"Last night sucked," I agree. She feels perfect in my arms; has felt perfect since the very first time.

We've rushed into this, we both know it. I'd seen her at some audition last year, in a waiting room that fed into several auditions for the various roles in a play, and I had meant to talk to her but she had gotten called in before I could. I'd lingered a little after my own audition had ended and prayed that hers had taken longer than mine. It hadn't, and I'd walked home dejected. Nearly a month later, sitting in my agent's waiting room, I had looked over to find her sitting next to me.

"Hey there."

She'd looked up from her magazine to smile at me, wide and open like I was someone she was genuinely pleased to see. "Hi."

"I think I saw you last month at an audition."

Eyeing me up and down, she bit her lip. Fuck. "Which one of us misread the casting call?"

"There was more than one audition going on." I laughed. "It was in Chelsea?" I hoped desperately that she remembered, otherwise I'd seem a little stalker-esque.

"Oh yeah! That off-Broadway thing?"

"That's the one." I'd sighed in relief, internally. "Is this your agency too? I haven't seen you around." Fourth Wall was a relatively small agency; it was plausible that I would see her around.

"I'm new," she shook her head. "I just got offered a part and I figure it's time to have someone else on my side."

"I'll be on your side," I'd flirted and she'd bitten her lip again. "What part?"

"The lead in a porno." My jaw fell open. I'd pay to see her in that. "I'm kidding. It's called _Marriage Ltd_? The playwright is apparently the next-"

"Arthur Miller." I finished for her and she'd quirked a brow at me. "Which role?"

"Uhm, Lena? The lead female."

My mouth had gone dry, so it took me a second to explain. "I guess that makes me your onstage husband." It was rare for an onstage couple to be cast without meeting, but Bill, the playwright in question, had raved to me about 'this unbelievable girl' he had offered the role to on the spot.

"Really?" She'd grinned. Later that afternoon, as we had coffee, she'd leaned over and kissed me full on the mouth, mid-sentence. "Method acting," she'd explained with a shrug, and I had pulled her close for another kiss.

Now, five months later, her mouth meets mine and I press her against the door. It takes all of two minutes for me to be hard and pressed against her stomach, and to my utter pleasure, instead of pushing me away she rubs at me through my pants.

"Sookie," I warn even though I'm pretty sure if she shuts me down, I will throw a tantrum. "If we start, I won't be able to stop."

"Who said I want to stop?"

Oh god. Her hands snake inside my sweats and I moan as she strokes me, gathering my wits long enough to lift her up on the counter to tug open her silky pink dressing gown. "Is this what you're wearing under your dress?" Black satin-y matching set.

"Nope, this is just what I threw on this morning," she grins. "Why would I wear black under a white dress?"

"That's what I was wondering," I laugh breathlessly and abandon higher brain function in favour of tugging the fabric down. Sookie likes it when I'm a bit rough with her breasts so I twist her nipples and she moans, pushing my t-shirt up to nip at my own nipples. When I pull her panties aside, her warm hands slide to my back and her head hides itself against my neck as I enter her slowly.

"Oh god, Baby." Her legs wrap around and press her feet into my ass, urging me forward. "You're huge." She knows exactly what she's doing, giving me an ego boost so I'll give her more. I'd give her everything; she just has to ask, and it has nothing to do with sex. She brought me back.

"I'm close." No surprise there. No longer traversing her lovely skin, my hand drops down to help her along and a minute later she comes with a loud moan and takes me with her. Eyes closed, I pull out and rest my forehead against hers, straightening my clothes before meeting her gaze.

"Savour that. I hear married people don't have sex." She laughs when I pout, and I fix up her underwear and re-tie her robe.

"Good as new."

We part ways, with a kiss and the promise to see each other soon.

"Eric?" She calls after me.

"Yes?"

"I'm so grateful I found you." Her big blue eyes look a little watery as she holds my gaze for a moment, and I place a hand over my heart.

888

_"I love you," he said, arms tight around me. _

_ "Don't ever leave me," I begged. I had just lost such a huge part of me; I didn't even care that I sounded pathetic. I just couldn't fathom losing him too._

_ "Where would I go?" Eric smiled, and I did my best to return the favour, though I wasn't sure I was being very convincing. "You're the love of my life."_

_ "You're mine." I hid my face in his neck, grateful for my five-foot-ten stature like I so very rarely was, save for when I was with Eric. Emma came over with her partner and they both hugged me, like they figured I'd need a mother figure now that my actual mother was gone. _

_ "Do you want to come over?" Emma asked. I would have to move in with her now anyways. Her and her girlfriend. Ingrid smiled at me kindly, and I did my best to give her one back, because I really did like her. She was nice, and understanding of the fact that Emma felt obligated to mother me, despite my age now. And she made Emma happy, like Eric made me happy, and Emma deserved that._

_ "I think I'd like to go home."_

_ "Okay, well," she shot a look at Ingrid, not wanting to leave me alone. "Do you want us to come over?" I didn't want to be a burden, and a look at Eric confirmed that the offer he made earlier was still on the table._

_ "It's okay, Em. Eric is staying with me."_

_ "I'm not comfortable leaving you alone." Emma frowned. _

_ "She won't be alone," Eric assured my sister and I smiled at him weakly. He wrapped an arm around me when I leaned into him. We finally got to leave the wake, thankfully before everybody started leaving in a continuous stream of condolences and less-than-heartfelt platitudes. Not that mom wasn't well-loved; she was, but everyone saw her death coming. Everybody was exhausted._

_ "Do you want to eat something?" Eric asked at my house._

_ "No," I said and took his hand, leading him back to my bedroom. Pushing him onto the bed, I unzipped my black dress and started shoving it down. _

_ "Baby," he murmured disapprovingly as I unclasped my bra and discarded it too. Everything I'd been wearing was black; I was done with black. I straddled his lap and began unbuttoning his dress shirt._

_ "I just want you." My voice broke a little. "Don't you want me?" He pulled my head down to capture my mouth in a heated kiss._

_ "Of course I want you," he murmured, taking my hair out of its ponytail to run his hands through it. "But I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to do this." It broke my heart, how loving he was being. There were times when I didn't know what I'd done to deserve him, but he was wrong; it wasn't just that I was afraid of losing him too, I just needed to feel him in me. Wasn't that what people did after they lost a loved one? I needed to feel alive._

_ "I want to do this. Please?"_

_He searched my face for a long moment, before nodding and twisting so that he was on top of me. He thrust into me when we were both naked, and I wrapped my limbs around him, begging for more. We were rough with each other for the first time ever that night, and I came so hard I thought I'd pass out for a second. Afterwards, I curled into him and sobbed until I exhausted every part of me that wasn't sore already from the sex. I terrified the shit out of Eric, I'm sure, but he took it all in stride and held me until I fell asleep. I awoke in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, wincing at the pain between my legs, and crawled back in gingerly to find Eric wide awake._

_ "Hey," he said quietly into the dark._

_ "What's wrong?" He was tense._

_ "I didn't know where you were for a second."_

_ "Didn't mean to worry you. I just had to pee." I rested my head on his chest. "I'm sorry I was such a bitch earlier."_

_ "It's okay."_

_ "I feel so terrible, like I used you or something."_

_ "You didn't hear me complaining, did you?" His arm tightens around me. "I'm sorry I hurt you."_

_ "You didn't hear me complaining, did you?" I chuckle back to him. "I'm an orphan," I say after a long moment of silence. Eric didn't respond, but perhaps intuitively, I knew he was wide awake like me._

_I was all cried out, but that didn't keep the loneliness from seeping down to my bones. _

888

The guests start pouring in a while later; filling the small church. Upstairs, I methodically get changed, trying to suppress the anxiety by focusing on the small details. There's a knock at the door once I'm finally dressed and I call out for the person to come in.

"Dad!"

"Eric." We hug, and he releases me to give me a long look. "You look good. You ready?" I brush some imaginary dust off of my jacket.

"I think so. Did you guys just get in?"

"A few hours ago. We slept on the plane, thank god." The flight from Sweden used to always knock me out if I didn't manage to get some sleep on it, I remember that. I haven't been back in years, even though my parents still live in Sweden. They've only met Sookie once, right after we got engaged, but they both adore her and I sympathize; it's hard not to. After I introduced them, Sookie had whispered to me that I look exactly like my father and today I can definitely see it, what with our matching tuxes.

"Seen Sookie yet?"

"Yeah. You did good, kid." He grins at me, suddenly looking far younger than his fifty-seven years, not that he looks it in the first place.

"I got lucky." Boy, did I ever.

"She told me to give you this," he hands me a box.

"Oh, right." Our wedding presents. I untie the ribbon and open the box to find a note and cufflinks. "These were my grandfather's," the note says in her slanting handwriting. "He wore them on his wedding day, and he gave them to my daddy to wear on his wedding day. I hope you like them". It's signed with a series of hearts and an S. I quickly replace my own cufflinks with my gift and grin at the way the falcon's eyes glint against the white gold. I show my dad the note and he quirks a brow much like I would have.

"I would say marry this girl, but you already are. Did you get her something?"

"Yeah." I tug the box out of my pocket. It's a simple Cartier pendant with a few diamonds surrounding a gorgeous amethyst gemstone, amethyst being her favourite for some reason. All of a sudden, I wish I had some meaningful family heirloom to give her instead, but Alcide walks in at that moment and interrupts my train of thought.

"Gus!" Alcide's face lights up like a fucking kid on Christmas morning and he pulls my dad into the kind of hug I'm sure he never gets from his own father.

"What's up?" I ask once they're done exchanging pleasantries.

"We were gonna play some poker before you get hitched. You guys want in?"

"I'm out. Anna will kill me if I disappear with you guys." He rolls his eyes. I can definitely see that; mom gets a bit neurotic when it comes to weddings. Especially since Pam swore off the whole institution of marriage thing, not that it's really legal here anyways.

"Oh come on, old man!" Alcide nudges him. "Eric?"

"Uhm, sure. Can you do me a favour though? I need this to get to Sookie."

"Sure, man." He takes the box. "Is there a family-friendly message for me to give her?"

I can't help laughing. "Yeah. Um, tell her she doesn't have to wear it if it doesn't go with her dress. And that I love her. And that I can't wait until I get to-" The two of them make noise to interrupt me and I burst out laughing again. "To spend the rest of my life with her, you sickos!" I was totally doing that to fuck with them though. Together, my dad and Alcide always act like such kids. Alcide goes away, and my dad and I head next door to the poker game. Bill is here now, and he and Jason are setting up the chairs around the table. Jason and my dad have never met since Jason was out of town when my parents met Sookie so I get to make introductions and watch Jason take in the similarities. I check my watch, for maybe the thousandth time today, and find there's about an hour left until the ceremony. There's a low thrum outside from dozens of conversations, and I change my mind about the poker game in favour of going downstairs to find my mother. I manage to locate her talking excitedly with Sookie's Gran, who is simultaneously the toughest and sweetest little old lady I have ever met. I'd been intimidated as fuck to meet her when we visited Louisiana at Thanksgiving, and Sookie had been as well if the way she had clutched my hand was any indication. Now, she smiles at me and pulls me into her arms.

"Hi Gran. Fancy seeing you here!" I tease and she pulls me away to level me with her gaze.

"If you hurt my little girl, young man, I will sink your body to the bottom of the Hudson."

My mother looks horrified for a second, but I nod somberly and promise the woman who raised Sookie that I wouldn't dream of it. In my head, I'm thinking that I'd jump off the Empire State Building before I'd ever hurt her, but I hold that thought while I hug my mom hello and lift her up like I always do, even though she's really not that short.

It's really no surprise at all that Pam and I are both tall, despite Sookie's bitching.

My mom has also already seen Sookie, and she and Gran exchange an excited look when they tell me how gorgeous she looks. I assume they mean the dress, because she'd looked gorgeous when we fucked in the bathroom earlier. I mingle a while longer, catching Jess talking to Lorena, the show's Stage Manager. There is definitely some tension there, since Bill was fucking Lorena before he met Jess and Lorena was clearly far more invested in their relationship than Bill had been. I never understood Bill's attraction to Lorena; he's a nice guy, a little quirky, a little clueless, but he's good to Jess. He's far too nice for someone as soul-sucking as Lorena, that's for sure. Pam and Amelia, Sookie's best friend and roommate before we moved in together are upstairs helping Sookie do whatever it is she has to do before the wedding. Sew her dress from scratch, maybe.

Thirty more minutes.

I'm going to die before I get to see her walk down the aisle. I stand idly by for a while, playing with the flower arrangement somehow attached to the church pews, and hum absently along to the music the string quartet is playing. I figure poker game has broken about twenty minutes before the ceremony when the guys begin heading down. By the time the ceremony is about to begin, I'm dying of anxiety. Standing at the end of the aisle with Alcide and Jason is probably the most nerve-wracking thing I've ever done, and I act in front of a crowd to make a living.

"She wouldn't leave me standing here, would she?" I murmur to Alcide.

"You think Sookie would be that chicken shit?" He chuckles and Jason leans in closer.

"If my sis wanted to dump you, she would have done it to your face."

That is true. Sookie would be far more likely to dump me in the middle of Central Park. She almost did, once, when I'd pulled out my best acting skills to convince her that I didn't think gays deserved the right to live.

"You should become an actor," she'd laughed after the initial urge to slap me had faded.

"Oh wait," I'd quipped. Now, her friend Lafayette sits in the front row in full drag, shooting bedroom eyes at me or Alcide; whoever happens to be paying attention.

"This doesn't seem real," I whisper.

"Why, are you stoned?"

I can't help the laughter. "I can't believe she's going to marry me. It's surreal."

"She _is_ too hot for you."

"You're such an ass." I shake my head and check my watch. Five minutes. Oh god. The band starts getting prepared to play a new song, _the_ song, and I take a deep breath. Her cousin Hadley's little boy is our ring man, and Tara's little girl is our flower girl. She waves at me adorably and throws fistfuls of rose petals unevenly all over her path, while Amelia and Pam trail behind her in matching blue dresses. Tara's sitting in the second row and smiles at her daughter before pulling her onto her lap, but I'm too concerned with the only person left to walk down the aisle. Everybody stands up and I think the pause in the music must be in my head because all of a sudden, there she is, standing at the end of the aisle. There's no veil, and her dress is skintight, but it's the look in her eyes that takes my breath away because she looks calm. Like she knows what she's doing, who she's picking. Like she has no doubts about me at all, and I'd panic but I've wanted her, wanted this, since that first day in the audition room. I'd blown the audition because I'd been too distracted, and now I think I couldn't care less. There will be other plays, but there are no other woman. Nobody else who can make me feel this way. She reaches the end of the aisle, reaches me, and hands her bouquet off to Amelia before facing me. I note absently that she's wearing the necklace even though it doesn't quite go with her outfit, but I don't care. She doesn't seem to either.

"Hey," she grins. "You must be Eric."

"Nice to meet you," I murmur back as everybody takes their seats and she takes my hands. "My hands are clammy."

"It's okay." She bites her a lip a little bit and I just want to kiss her already.

"Dearly beloved…"

888

_I called Eric, my words rendered unintelligible by the sobbing, and he stayed with me on the phone until he could discern what the hell I was saying. I hadn't told him when I found the lump, since he's been away at school, but now I have to. He'll be back in a couple of days anyways, what with the term ending._

_ "Baby, please just tell me what's wrong," he'd begged, panicked, and I'd taken a deep breath._

_ "I found a lump. I have cancer."_

_He left New York before his last final, choosing to get a C in the class, just to be with me. I was admitted to the hospital and he and Emma held my hand as I was wheeled to the surgery, and Eric stayed with me night after night as I went through chemotherapy. I knew there was no point, had known it from the beginning, because I'd been a fucking idiot. Someone with a predisposition for breast cancer was even more strongly recommended to get regular checkups, do checks for lumps, and I hadn't. I'd lived my life though. I went to school to study art, had a good relationship with my sister, worked hard to maintain one with my long-distance boyfriend. And yet here I was, four years after my mother's death, diagnosed with metastatic cancer._

_ "Marry me," Eric whispered to me, on a good day, as I adjusted my scarf around my head and he wheeled me around the hospital grounds. It was so gorgeous out, and good days were becoming fewer and farther in between, so I had begged him to take me outside. And here he was, proposing to me. He moved to kneel in front of me. _

_ "Eric," I whispered. "I'm dying." He wasn't looking at me; his forehead rested on my knee and he was staring at my feet._

_ "No."_

_ "Yeah, Baby, I am."_

_ "So marry me," he practically begged._

_ "No."_

_He looked heartbroken, and I had to fight the urge to take it back. "Why not?"_

_ "Because you're going to be a widower. And that's the most terrible thing I can imagine. I don't want to do that to you."_

_ "You don't want to marry me?"_

_ "I want to have a life with you, but that's not an option, is it?" I asked gently, even though it was breaking my heart._

_ "I love you. I was going to propose when I got back."_

_Fuck. Fuck this. Fuck everything. Four years of long-distance, and he was going to fucking propose. I would have said 'yes' in a heartbeat. "I love you too." My words broke on a sob. "I don't want to be the reason people offer you condolences for the death of your wife. I won't do that."_

_ "So you'll be my girlfriend. You think it's going to make me love you any less?"_

_ "No," I shook my head. "But when someone asks you about your marriage, I'd rather you tell them about the life you lived with your wife and not how you stayed with her in the hospital until she died."_

_ "You don't know that you'll die," he insisted. "You could go into remission."_

_ "Eric," I smiled and bent down to press a kiss into his lips. He responded, with far more passion and energy than I had to offer, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "I love you more than anything. I can't imagine not having met you."_

_ "I love you too. I never would have left if-"_

_ "If you'd anticipated my tumour?" I laughed. "I'm glad you did. I missed you, but I'm so proud of you for getting into AMDA." American Musical & Dramatic Academy. I hadn't even heard about it until Eric had told me about auditioning, but he'd gotten in with a bunch of scholarships. I was still so proud of him. I'd saved up to fly over to see him in a few productions, and he'd been great. Everything had been in English, but I'd been fluent in it for years. He told me his Swedish accent was going away, and when he would come back to visit, his Swedish was always a bit rusty. His accent got him hit on, constantly, when he was in New York, but I couldn't even be mad about it; if his good looks had bordered on geeky in high school, they'd matured into full-blown panty-dropping lately. I'd never not trusted him, though. I'd never had any reason to. I'd gotten there first, he would always remind me whenever I would get even the tiniest bit insecure._

_ "I regret it so much."_

_ "Hey, don't you dare." I shoved him back lightly with a frown. "This is our life. You want to blame someone, blame me for being a dumb shit and not getting regular check ups. I never blamed you for going to America before, and I'm not about to start now. And don't you dare do it either."_

_We talked some more, mostly saying 'I love you' over and over again as we walked around. Well, he walked; I rolled. When we were together, just the two of us, I missed the sex. I ached for the intimacy that came with it; I'd begged my doctor for a day away last month, and we'd gone for dinner with my sister and Ingrid before going to spend the night in my apartment. I'd begged him, pretty much flat-out begged him for sex, knowing that it had nothing to do with him not wanting me and everything to do with him being concerned for me._

_ "I don't know when will be the next time I'll feel this good," I had whispered, feeling like I was going to cry. He had looked it too, and we'd had the most careful foreplay of my life until I had cracked a joke or two and he had relaxed. Then, for a couple of hours, it had just been Eric and I, talking and laughing and fucking._

_It was the last perfect memory I had._

_I knew I was going to die, when the night came. Everyone knew it too; I could see it in their eyes. Eric and Emma and Ingrid, they were all there, sitting around and waiting for me to die. I always thought I would fight to stay, struggle with my own consciousness just to get an hour more, ten minutes more. But that night, I was just tired. I just wanted it to be over, because I could see the toll it was taking on my family. Waiting for me to die, knowing it was inevitable, was like a fucked up, backwards kind of grieving; I wanted them to get the chance to actually grieve, to heal, to get over it. Get over me._

_ "Eric?" My voice was so frail, so broken, that I was surprised he even heard me in the first place. "Fall in love again, okay?"_

_ "Malin, don't."_

_ "I mean it. I know you love me. Just be happy. Actually marry someone." I did my best to smile. I hoped it didn't look too heart-wrenching to watch, because the marrying thing had become a bit of a running joke with us. _

_ "I love you, Mal. For ever."_

_ "Love you." I would cry, if I wasn't so tired. I didn't want to leave him, or Emma, or Ingrid. I said my goodbye to them too, and they both cried. I wished Eric had someone to help him too, when I saw Emma grasp Ingrid's hand. But then I was going, sinking into the mattress, slowing down._

_Going, going, gone._

888

"Actually marry someone," Malin had teased me, oh so many times, thirteen years ago.

"By the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife," said the priest, and I looked over to find Sookie's grin identical to mine. "You may kiss the bride."


End file.
